Awful Auntie. David Walliams
helmet burst the huge gas cell above her. Instantly the Zeppelin started violently spurting hot air. The airship was really nothing more than a giant balloon after all. It farted its way across the sky at terrific speed, before crash-landing into the sea with a PLOP.
Alberta just managed to swim to shore, the owlet (still larger than the average owl) perched precariously on her head.
Once safely back at Saxby Hall she began training the bird. Wagner never knew his real owl parents, but quickly accepted Alberta as his mother. Indeed the woman would feed the owlet live worms and spiders from her mouth, passing them from lip to bill. As Wagner grew, so did the treats. Soon she would feed him mice and sparrows she had caught in traps. Food became a reward, and over time Alberta had taught her owl a number of impressive tricks:
– Fetching her slippers.
– Flying a loop-the-loop.
– Aerial reconnaissance (a military term she had picked up when fighting in World War One, which meant spying from the air).
– Dive-bombing children’s kites.
– Stealing old ladies’ knickers from washing lines.
– Dropping stink-bombs from the air at the village’s summer fete.
– Delivering a letter or parcel within a hundred-mile radius.
– Duetting with her on her favourite German opera arias. This was painful to listen to as Aunt Alberta was an even worse singer than the owl.
– To use a special owl urinal when having an owl pee.
– To swoop on kittens and devour them in one gulp, bones and all.
– To make an apple strudel.
‘Owling’, ‘Owlery’, ‘Owlcraft’, ‘Owlistry’, ‘Owlography’, ‘Owlosophy’, call it what you will, Alberta became an expert.*
Soon she and her beloved Wagner became famous in owling circles. They even started doing photoshoots for specialist bird of prey publications, such as My Owl, Just Owls, Owl!, Owls Owls Owls, Owls Only, Mature Owls, and Owling Monthly: The Magazine for Owls and their Admirers. Once they even appeared together on the cover of Twit-Woo!, very much the Hello! magazine of the owl world. Inside there were twelve pages of ‘at home with’ photographs, and a lengthy interview where they talked about how they had met and their hopes for their future together. Of course Wagner’s answers were all in squawks.
Alberta and Wagner. Wagner and Alberta. It was a very close relationship.
The pair travelled everywhere together on Alberta’s motorcycle, with Wagner in the sidecar. Both had matching leather flying helmets and goggles.
What was more unusual still was that Alberta and Wagner also shared a bed. When Stella would bring her aunt her nightly glass of sherry, Alberta and Wagner would be tucked up together in matching striped pyjamas reading the day’s newspapers. It was a bizarre sight. Another time Stella heard the two of them splashing around in the bath together. It wasn’t natural, it wasn’t right, and it definitely couldn’t be hygienic. Especially not for the owl.
However, this closeness between man and beast was not without purpose. For all this time, Aunt Alberta was training her owl to obey her every command. Even to do unspeakable evil.
Now we have learned all about Alberta and her Great Bavarian Mountain Owl, we can return to our story.
Up in Stella’s bedroom, at the top of Saxby Hall, the little girl was laid out on her bed. A deep shadow loomed over her. The shadow of her Aunt Alberta, with her pet owl Wagner perched on her hand.
Stella’s voice cracked as she asked her aunt, “I don’t understand. How can I have been asleep for months?”
Alberta thought for a moment, and took a live mouse out of her pocket by its tail before dropping it into Wagner’s mouth. The bird wolfed the unfortunate creature whole.
“Ever since the accident…” replied the woman.
“Accident?! What accident?” Stella pleaded.
Aunt Alberta approached the girl’s bed, and rested a hand on the blanket.
“The accident that did this to you…”
With a theatrical flourish the woman whipped the blanket off the bed. Stella looked down in horror to see that her entire body was bandaged up. It was as if she was an ancient Egyptian pharaoh, mummified in a pyramid.
“Every bone in your body has been broken.”
“Nooooo…!” cried the girl.
“Yeeeesssss…!” replied Alberta, mocking her niece’s tone. “Each little bone was shattered into hundreds of pieces. You had to be scooped up like a piece of wibbly-wobbly jelly!”
“How on…? W-w-what happened? And where are Mama and Papa?” pleaded Stella. The little girl had so many questions her words were tumbling out in desperation.
Aunt Alberta merely smirked. She sucked on her pipe and blew some smoke into her niece’s face. “Oh! So many questions! All in good time, child.”
“But I need to know!” demanded Stella. “Now!”
Alberta tutted. “Perhaps you would like a game of tiddlywinks first!”
The girl couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What are you talking about?”
The woman pulled a box off the girl’s shelf and put it down on the bed.
“This isn’t the time!” said Stella.
“There’s